


Recognition

by BlackWolfFire



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Based on a Tumblr Post, Blood, Character Death, Gen, No Spoilers in the Tags Until Then Though, Villain Will Be Revealed Eventually, hero x villain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 07:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16445552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackWolfFire/pseuds/BlackWolfFire
Summary: The hero was dying. The hero was not supposed to die, not like this. It was supposed to be heroic and honorable, they were supposed to win, and then die surrounded by friends and family who would be there with them, until the very end. But the hero was alone in this clearing, alone but for the villain whose blade had pierced their heart.All credit for the prompt to @messythoughtsandscribbledplots on tumblr!Full prompt in work.





	1. Prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full prompt, in case you were wondering.

Before we begin, here's the full prompt by messythoughtsandscribbledplots

* * *

**The hero could only gasp as the sword plunged deeper into their chest, could manage only the smallest breath of air as they gaped at the dark crimson spreading across their front. They fell, and the impact of their knees against the cold earth was a gunshot that exploded in their ears, that echoed across the hills.**

**The hero was dying. The hero was not supposed to die, not like this. It was supposed to be heroic and honorable, they were supposed to _win_ , and then die surrounded by friends and family who would be there with them, until the very end. But the hero was alone in this clearing, alone but for the villain whose blade had pierced their heart.**

**“I failed.” The realization hit the hero with full force as they spoke that simple truth, as they sank, defeated, into the villain’s arms.**

**“You did.”**

**“I don’t want to die.”**

**“I know.” A beat of silence as the hero’s breath continued to slow, as their blood continued to pour, and then, “You fought well.”**

**The hero couldn’t remember the last time their efforts had been acknowledged, had been praised rather than scorned and criticized. To the world, they would never be enough. But they had fought so hard and for so long, and they were so tired, and maybe…**

**Maybe this was a good way to go. Slowly, quietly, at peace in the arms of someone who saw the hero as a human, flaws and all, and did not blame them for it.**

**The hero sank deeper into the villain’s arms as they let go of that last little bit of strength, as they sighed with the freedom of the release, as they closed their eyes to the sight of the villain’s face, pinched with guilt and concern.**

**“Thank you,” the hero whispered with their final breath.**

* * *

On to the story! Hope ya like it, and don't forget to go give messythoughtsandscribbledplots a shit ton of love and support!

Second chapter is the story.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the view of the hero...

Virgil stumbled through the rain, finally reaching the shelter of the trees. He couldn't remember how long he had been running, but the threat of the villain behind him chilled his blood and pumped his veins full of adrenaline.

He couldn't allow himself to be caught, not yet, not after everything he had tried to work towards.

But he had forgotten just how fast the villain pursuing him could move, and before he could properly catch his breath, there was a grating rasp of metal, and suddenly, there was a sword pressed against his throat.

"Why Anxiety...how... _nice_ to see you again," the villain drawled from behind him. The villain slowly drew the blade away from his neck and spun him around, forcing his back against the closest tree.

Virgil's breath hitched. There, standing before him with his sword drawn and body taut with anticipation, stood the villain. Still wearing the same outfit, expression just as blank as it had been at their last meeting. And every meeting before that.

Virgil growled, lunging forward in an attempt to grab the villain and knock the weapon from his hands. He didn't even register the cold steel entering his body until the villain twisted the blade, smirking.

For a split second, Virgil could have sworn that the villain's expressionless mask slipped, revealing shock and horor in its place, but in a blink, it was gone, and Virgil couldn't be too sure it had ever been there at all.

Virgil could only gasp as the sword plunged deeper into his chest, could manage only the smallest breath of air as he gaped at the dark crimson spreading across his front. He fell, and the impact of his knees against the cold earth was a gunshot that exploded in his ears, that echoed across the hills.

He was dying. He wasn't supposed to die, not like this. It was supposed to be heroic and honorable, he was supposed to _win_ , and then die surrounded by friends and family who would be there with him, until the very end. But the hero was alone in this clearing, alone but for the villain whose blade had pierced his heart. No no n _o_ _no nO NO **NO!**_

“I failed.” The realization hit Virgil full force as they spoke that simple truth, as he sank, defeated, into the villain’s arms.

“You did," the villain agreed, cradling him in his arms almost  _gently_.

“I don’t want to die," Virgil whispered, eyes slipping closed. He could feel his heart slowing. The admission came out as a pathetic, terrified whimper, and Virgil hated it.

“I know,” the villain murmured, brushing his hair away from his face and gazing down at him. A beat of silence as the hero’s breath continued to slow, as his blood continued to pour, and then, “You fought well.”

Virgil couldn’t remember the last time his efforts had been acknowledged, had been praised rather than scorned and criticized. To the world, he would never be enough. But he had fought so hard and for so long, and he was so tired, and maybe…

Maybe this was a good way to go. Slowly, quietly, at peace in the arms of someone who saw him as a human, flaws and all, and did not blame him for it.

Virgil sank deeper into the villain's arms as he let go of that last little bit of strength, as he sighed with the freedom of the release, as he closed his eyes to the sight of the villain's face, pinched with uncharacteristic guilt and concern.

“Thank you,” Virgil whispered with his final breath.

The world faded out of existence, and the last thing he saw was the villain, still holding him against his chest, lowering his head in grief, a lonely tear making its way down the villain's cheek, and a low sob escaping him just before Virgil floated away, eyes going blank.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and from the view of the villain.

Logan wanted to start screaming the moment the blade pierced the hero's chest. They had been fighting for such a long time, years and years of their lives that they would never get back, and all the villain had ever wanted was to be able to  _ **stop**_. Just stop fighting, stop being the villain, stop hurting people.

But in all the years that he had battling the younger boy, he had never, not  _once_ wished the hero dead. And yet, here they were, standing in a grassy field beneath the stars, the moonlight reflecting off of Logan's blade, still lodged in the hero's chest.

He whispered those simple words that sounded like it was jerked forcefully out of him...but was an honest truth. "You fought well." Three tiny words that made the hero's face light up, if only for a handful of miliseconds. He truly meant it. The hero had been a skilled opponent.

And now he was going to die. Because of him. Because Logan was a villain.

It uses to make him laugh, how much their names clashed. Logic and Anxiety. Anxiety and Logic. Logic sounded more hero-like, and Anxiey sounded more like a villain. It was funny, really, the hand that fate had dealt them this go round.

It wasn't fucking fair.

He clung to the hero as his body slowly went limp in his arms. Just before the life drained from his spent body, the boy seemed to gather the last of his strength, and, looking Logan right in the eyes, smiled. "Thank you,"he whispered.

Logan's eyes closed of their own accord. "You-...you're welcome," he responded, softer than the wind rustling through the grass around them.

His clothes were soaked through and he was shivering, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He didn't have the energy to move. All he cared about was the small, motionless body in his arms.

It took a moment, but when the shock wore off and he realized exactly what he had done, he couldn't help but let out a wounded cry.

 

 

He hadn't even known the boy's name.


End file.
